


it's the way it goes, i don't say goodnight

by Zoadgo



Series: Kinktober 2018 [10]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angry Sex, Doggy Style, F/F, Hair Pulling, Jealousy, Military AU, strapon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-29 06:07:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16258247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoadgo/pseuds/Zoadgo
Summary: One week of leave. Everyone in Echo’s unit had been oh so jealous of her and Octavia, because who wouldn’t want a week to go blow off some steam, get away from it all? They’re special forces, after all, their stress level is a high baseline that spikes to points that would break lesser people. They need leave as time to relax, even a day or two.Except, for Echo, leave isn’t in the least bit relaxing. Maybe if she could take it on her own, go off into the woods somewhere and spend a week just living simply, but no. She’s Octavia Blake’s designated handler, and that means Echo gets to sit at a crowded, stinking bar and glare at people over her glass of water as Octavia attempts to ruin the whole regiment’s reputation by flirting overtly with every half-eligible man in the room.





	it's the way it goes, i don't say goodnight

**Author's Note:**

> [title song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fplJ1xBhcik)
> 
> today's prompt called for **hair-pulling** and I'm gonna be honest, I didn't start this until yesterday and I finished it at 3am. Ugh. So this might not be the greatest, sorry!
> 
> please send prayers to my beta [Etra](http://coldsaturn.tumblr.com) because she's a godsend and edited this while I slept. I cannot thank her enough!
> 
> [tumblr](http://jonnmurphy.tumblr.com)

One week of leave. Everyone in Echo’s unit had been oh so jealous of her and Octavia, because who wouldn’t want a week to go blow off some steam, get away from it all? They’re special forces, after all, their stress level is a high baseline that spikes to points that would break lesser people. They need leave as time to relax, even a day or two.

Except, for Echo, leave isn’t in the least bit relaxing. Maybe if she could take it on her own, go off into the woods somewhere and spend a week just living simply, but no. She’s Octavia Blake’s designated handler, and that means Echo gets to sit at a crowded, stinking bar and glare at people over her glass of water as Octavia attempts to ruin the whole regiment’s reputation by flirting overtly with every half-eligible man in the room.

Honestly, Echo wouldn’t care that much. Let Octavia take some muscle bound fool back to their hotel room and be sorely disappointed in his performance, it doesn’t really affect Echo. But having to sit here and watch her grind on some dumbass with a backwards hat? Echo takes another slow sip of water as her stomach turns. 

It’s not that Octavia looks bad doing it; as always, she’s putting on a show, and she knows exactly how incredible she looks. It’s the way the guy practically drools on her, the clumsy placement of his hands, and how he even has the gall to spill some of his drink on Octavia’s shoe. It’s upsetting to watch, and Echo can’t help but think she could do so much better at handling Octavia than him.

But of course, that’s not her job. And it’s not her job to keep Octavia safe. She’s here to make sure that Black Ops’ favourite pet project doesn’t go flying off the rails again and cause another diplomatic incident. Which means watching idiots spill drinks on her, and looking for those telltale signs of Octavia losing her cool.

She seems composed tonight, however, flitting her way through the crowd without a care in the world. She looks over at Echo frequently enough, probably checking to see if she can slip her supervision. But Echo’s too good at this by now. No matter how much it bores her, she’ll keep a sober eye on Octavia, although these days that’s less for the military’s good, and more for Octavia’s own. Echo doesn’t know what might happen if she has another public outburst, and as much as Echo hates being dragged to places like this, she doesn’t want Octavia to be hurt for it.

Octavia winds her arms around the neck of some new guy, pressed up against him so firmly that there’s no way that doesn’t count as a sex act. She looks like a sea serpent, powerful and lithe, body undulating in time with the music; he looks like a crab, just wildly clobbering away at her ass with his claws. Echo can’t quite blame him, it is an incredible ass, but he has to know that’s not the way to make a woman feel good, right? If it were Echo over there-

As Echo abruptly stops that train of thought, she catches Octavia looking at her. There’s something of a dare in her eyes, a challenge that Echo has no idea what it is. So Echo simply holds her gaze and drinks her water. Octavia rolls her eyes emphatically, shaking her head as if disappointed in Echo’s inaction. But what did she expect? For Echo to come over there and dance with her? While Echo is a fair dancer in her own right, this isn’t exactly her scene.

The guy leans down to say something to Octavia, his mouth getting so close to her ear that Echo cringes in sympathy. He looks drunk as hell, and he’s not even that attractive. Why does Octavia put up with these people again? 

Whatever he said must have been funny, because Octavia throws her head back with laughter. Wild, unrestrained, just like everything she does. Such a sharp contrast with Echo’s careful control, but oddly enough, they pair incredibly well on missions. And out of missions, for the most part. Sometimes they get along very well indeed…

Echo’s straying thoughts are snapped back to the present as Octavia pulls the man closer, pressing her lips to his. Something twists within Echo’s chest as the asshole treats a kiss from Octavia like some kind of a pie eating contest, sloppy in a bad way. But Octavia doesn’t push him off, doesn’t slap him, nothing. She kisses him back, and after a moment that Echo can only equate to watching some upsetting nature documentary, Octavia opens her eyes and looks directly at Echo.

There’s that challenge again. And that feeling of ‘I could do better’.

“This girl,” Echo mumbles to herself, setting aside her glass and standing with a heavy sigh. 

Octavia closes her eyes again as soon as Echo moves, and Echo knows exactly what game she’s playing. She’s pulled this shit before, but each time prior, Echo hasn’t played along. Well, Octavia never learned her lesson any other way, so maybe it’s time for a change of tactics. And if it doesn’t work, well, at least Echo will get to work out some of the frustration that navigating the crowded room inspires in her.

“Excuse me,” Echo says, probably not loud enough to be heard over the music. But she accompanies her words with the act of grabbing the man’s shoulder and bodily pulling him off of Octavia. He makes an indignant noise, but Echo has already put him from her mind.

“Echo,” Octavia smiles, running a hand through her hair. It’s not right of her to look so good at all times, honestly. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Let’s go,” Echo orders, grabbing Octavia’s elbow and marching them towards the door.

“Already? But I was having so much fun. If you weren’t, you could always leave, we can catch up later.” Octavia offers the idea as if it’s not monumentally stupid.

“You call that fun?” Echo scoffs, glancing over her shoulder to see the idiot has already found a new girl to grind on. 

“Unless you have something better to offer?” Octavia curves a brow in suggestive query, wicked smile playing around the corners of her lips.

To hell with it. Echo had hoped to make it back to their hotel first, but if Octavia needs convincing, well, technically that’s her job. Her commanding officers probably never thought she’d go about it in quite this manner, but they’re not exactly here to complain. Results are results, right?

Echo releases Octavia’s elbow in order to wind her hand into Octavia’s hair, gripping tightly at the base of her scalp. Octavia hisses at the touch, but Echo ignores it, leaning in to crush their lips together. She devours Octavia, slow but hard, just the way they both like it. So much more careful and meticulous than that guy ever would have been. She could make Octavia fall apart just like this, but after that taunting, it’s not exactly what Echo wants to do. Someone spills a drink near them, and cheap beer assaults her nostrils.

Echo pulls Octavia’s head back with a sharp jerk, noting the flush on her cheeks and the way Octavia’s breath catches in her throat. Of course, no matter what Echo does, it’s always what Octavia wants.

“Let’s go,” Echo repeats herself.

Octavia follows back to the hotel easily enough, but once inside their door, she breaks away from Echo with a heavy sigh, shedding her coat and stretching in a way that is definitely more form than function. It presents her hips just so, her shirt riding up to show off a strip of skin, and all Echo can think about is the way that guy had been pawing at her ass.

“You’re always such a buzzkill, Echo,” Octavia complains lightly, crossing over to her bed and taking a seat on the edge of it. Echo crosses to her own bed, rummaging in her pack beside it.

“You think you’re hot shit or something, huh, Blake? You’re just lucky,” Echo goads her, still annoyed at Octavia’s antics and choice of outing for their leave.

“Oh yeah, some luck I have,” Octavia scoffs.

“Lucky your brother got you into the military rather than prison. Lucky you’ve got powerful people covering your ass. Lucky I’m your handler, and not someone who might not be as… understanding.” Echo picks her words very carefully. She does everything carefully, even this somewhat petty outburst follows suit.

“Sure, you’re a real gem.” Echo can hear the eye roll in Octavia’s words, and it only serves to make her more frustrated. 

“What, you’d rather be with that guy? Really?”

“He seemed fun,” Octavia replies with a flippant shrug.

“Maybe he was. But I don’t think he can kiss you like I can, or touch you like I can, or-” Echo turns around and crosses over to Octavia bed, resting a strapon and a bottle of lube on the bed beside her, “-fuck you like I can.”

“Is that a promise, Sergeant?” Octavia grins up at her, and it only makes that sour burning more present in Echo’s gut. Why does she get to look like the cat that ate the canary, when Echo is the one who had to watch guys drooling all over her all night?

Echo does away with words; they were never her strong point anyway. She drags Octavia into another kiss, hand in her hair once more, grip just shy of punishing. Octavia moans into the kiss when Echo tugs on her hair slightly, and it makes Echo feel powerful, even as she’s giving Octavia exactly what she wants. Because no one knows her like Echo does, no one can make her sing quite so beautifully.

Echo takes her time, holding Octavia in place by the hair and taking her fill of her. She drags her mouth down to Octavia’s jaw, and her neck, scraping her teeth over the skin. Octavia bares her neck, breath shuddering, and Echo simply presses a chaste kiss there. She won’t give her everything she wants, especially not any sort of a mark that might get them both written up.

“Pants off. Hands and knees,” Echo orders. Octavia laughs, but complies anyway.

She shimmies out of her pants like she’s being paid to do it, slow and sensual. While Echo enjoys the show, it also reminds her of the way Octavia had gyrated while dancing, the show she’d put on there. Echo tuts, discarding her own pants as Octavia crawls onto the bed, brushing her hair over one shoulder and arching her back beautifully. By the time Octavia’s done showing off, Echo has the strapon secured in place.

“Do you still remember how to use that thing?” Octavia laughs, even though she looks clearly satisfied eyeing up the dildo, and Echo shakes her head.

“I remember, but maybe you need a reminder?”

Echo mounts the bed behind Octavia and quickly sinks two fingers into her, thrusting a few times just to feel her, and to see how ready she might be. Yes, Octavia likes it rough and Echo is feeling a bit ungenerous tonight, but she doesn’t want to hurt her. She determines she might be able to go in as is, but elects to coat the silicone shaft in a dollop of lube anyway.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” Echo taunts as she lines herself up and presses forward, slowly breaching Octavia’s pussy. Octavia makes a breathy noise, but laughs anyway, arching her back and putting on a show like always.

“Looks like you wanted it- ah!” Octavia cuts off as Echo wraps her hand in her hair once more, fingers curled against her scalp. She pulls back at the same time as she thrusts forward sharply, seating the dildo deep within Octavia.

“I didn’t quite catch that,” Echo teases, giving Octavia just a moment to adjust.

“I was saying- oh fuck!” Octavia’s words fail again as Echo twists the grip in her hair and draws back out halfway, before slamming home again. “I was- Shit-”

Each time Octavia tries to talk back to her, Echo thrusts again, and Octavia’s words fall away into violent nonsense. After a few quick thrusts to shut her up, Echo falls into a rhythm of fucking Octavia. Hard and steady, not necessarily fast, and using her grip on Octavia’s hip and in her hair to pull her back into the thrusts. Octavia moans and grunts and curses like a sailor, but she doesn’t come up with any more glib responses.

“Am I still a buzzkill?” Echo teases, and Octavia jerks her head against Echo’s grasp in a nod.

“Y-yup, still- fuck- fucking boring,” Octavia gasps between thrusts.

It’s a little amazing, actually, that she still manages to talk trash while being fucked so thoroughly. Echo chuckles and doubles down her efforts, grip turning bruising and punishing, because that’s what Octavia’s been trying to goad her into this whole time anyway. Octavia moans louder than before, rolling her hips back against Echo’s thrusts without Echo needing to aid her at all.

The room is far too hot, and Echo’s thighs are burning in short order, but the sounds of sex and Octavia’s heady moans are too intoxicating for her to even consider stopping. That, plus the vague pleasure provided to her by the base of the dildo as she thrusts, this is far too enjoyable for Echo to give in to some simple muscle fatigue. She pounds into Octavia again and again, listening to the upticks in breath, the octave changes in her moans.

When Octavia’s hands clench in the sheets, Echo knows she’s close. She tugs on Octavia’s hair, baring her throat so perfectly. She looks absolutely gorgeous, trembling beneath Echo, every muscle and tendon taut as a drawstring. Octavia whimpers, pulling slightly against the grip in her hair.

“Come on, Octavia, just like that,” Echo encourages her, slamming her hips forward with a final few punishing blows until Octavia comes undone around her. 

Echo releases Octavia’s hair just as her arms collapse, failing to hold her up as Octavia climaxes silently. She breathes shaky and hard, and Echo fucks her through the tremors of it, slower and softer, of course. When Octavia starts making little noises of protest again, Echo pulls out, shifting to lay down so she can give her burning thighs a rest. She pants slightly, trying to cool down in the stifling air.

“Okay,” Octavia’s voice comes muffled from the bed next to her, “you’re maybe not a total buzzkill.”

Echo can’t do anything other than shake her head as she laughs.


End file.
